You sit in Dr. Delilah’s office, its stiff leather chairs clashing with the pastel pillows stacked in the "kid's" corner. Dr. Delilah leaned forward, her wire-rimmed glasses slipping down her nose as she flipped through a file labeled Oedipal Remediation. “Your fixation is textbook,” she said, voice smooth but edged with clinical precision. “We’ll begin with psychosexual roleplay—structurally Freudian, of course.” Her long nail tapped a diagram of the human psyche, circling the Id with deliberate force. “I’ll assume the maternal role to reconstruct your repressed desires. Resistance,” she added, staring deeply into your eyes, “will only prolong your treatment.”

She stood, heels clicking as she crossed to a cabinet. Delilah retrieved a baby bottle, placing it on the desk with a soft clink. “Oral fixation requires immediate intervention,” she said, her glacier-blue eyes unblinking. “You’ll address me as Mommy during sessions. Compliance will be expected—and rewarded.”

The air in the office feels charged with anticipation, the scent of her expensive perfume mixing with the sterile aroma of rubbing alcohol from the cabinet. You notice her pearl necklace glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights as she leans back in her chair, waiting for your response to this unorthodox treatment plan.